


Welcome to the X-Men, Jean Grey...

by NonskaithNymph



Series: X-hilarating X-Men [1]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonskaithNymph/pseuds/NonskaithNymph
Summary: This is a fic that reimagines the original X-Men of the 1960s, beginning with a new student arriving at the soon to be renamed Xavier's School for Gifted Boys. Given my love of the original 1960s comics, I have attempted to somewhat mimic the style, so if it seems a little cliché, blame Stan, not me XDContent Note: There is some misgendering in the beginning





	1. Chapter 1

The Xavier estate and mansion have been part of the Xavier family since 1698. Located at 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center New York, just north of Manhattan, in Westchester County, the mansion sits on a hill. Surrounding the parameter of the estate are tall brick and metal gates, a plaque beside the main gate reads:

Xavier’s School for Gifted Boys  
Mutatis Mutandis

The Headmaster and owner of the School, Professor Charles Xavier, sits pensively in his study overlooking the courtyard of the mansion-turned-school. He is awaiting the newest arrival to the school, the exceptional youth Eugene Grey. As he ponders over the new student, his thoughts turn to that very plaque. ‘ _Perhaps it’s time for a change_ ,’ he thinks to himself as he sees a light green ’62 Cadillac Coup De Ville pulling up to the gate. He can feel, though he is not actively scanning for it, the youth in the car’s knotted stomach upon reading the plaque. Professor Xavier’s thoughts snap back to himself as the box on his desk buzzes.

“H-hello? This is John Grey, I have an appointment with Professor Xavier,” a voice crackles through the speaker box on his desk. Placing his hands on either side of his chair, Professor Xavier wheels himself to his desk.

“Please come in, Mr. Grey,” Professor Xavier responds through the two-way speaker box. He presses another button beside the first and the gate unlocks, the massive black painted iron gates automatically roll with mechanical aid aside to allow the car and its three occupants in.

Placing two fingers lightly to his temple, the bald man sends a mental call, ‘ _Scott, please greet our guests. No need to inconvenience Hank and Bobby, just escort our guests directly to my office._ ’ The Professor knows he can rely on the youth. Indeed, he’s been grooming Scott to lead the missions that are no doubt ahead of them in this turbulent time of change, to lead the yet unknown team of X-Men.

Upon receiving the telepathic missive from his mentor, Scott Summers stands up and sets the paper he’d been reading on the table next to the couch. Adjusting his sweater vest, the young man runs his hand through his brown hair, careful not to disturb his specially crafted ruby-quartz glasses. Scott takes a brisk pace from the study to the front door, and opens it with a smile. There is an older man standing at the door, who greets Scott with a smile as well, and a firm handshake.

“John Grey,” the man says.

“Scott Summers,” he responds. From behind those ruby-quartz glasses, the man cannot hope to follow Scott’s gaze as he looks past the man toward the car. A woman dressed in what must be her Sunday finest is walking with a youth toward the school. “Welcome to the Xavier’s School for Gifted… Boys.” He stumbles over that last word as his ruby tinted gaze scans the youth. Slight of frame, with one arm hugging the other across a slouched chest. Deep red hair so long as to obscure some of the youth’s delicate face, with a gaze cast groundward. Scott’s seen the uncertain look many times, when Bobby came, when Hank did. Warren, he looked more angry than anything else. But there is something else about this new arrival, a vulnerability he’s unfamiliar with.

“Quite a grip ya got there, Scott. My wife, Elaine,” John Grey’s voice snaps Scott back to the moment, “and our son, Eugene.” Scott almost doesn’t understand, catching himself before inquiring where this ‘son’ is, as John Grey motions to the nervous youth.

“Uh.., of course,” Scott offers a broad smile and offers a hand to the new student. The most delicate, soft hand he’s ever felt rests nervously in his. Scott almost finds himself desperate to hold on. “Welcome.”

“Go on, son. Shake his hand like a man,” John Grey insists. The youth shyly ignores the encouragement.

“Right this way,” Scott says, motioning the family in. “The Professor is in his office, if you’ll just follow me.” And, once the three of them are in, he leads them through the manor o the office, all the while desperately trying not to steal glances at the youth introduced as Eugene.

Scott opens the door, and bids the family farewell. With a simple thank you, the three of them head in and, per Professor Xavier’s instructions, close the door behind them. Scott sighs, leaning against the wall beside the door. Not to listen in, but to think. He closes his eyes and removes his glasses but a moment, his clenched eyelids now the only thing standing between his optic blast and obliteration. Silently, he rubs his temple with one hand. ‘What is this feeling?’ He thinks to himself, ‘who is this new student, and why do I feel this way?’ But young mister Summers has no time to answer his internal monologue before he hears the sound of his mutant companions coming down the hall. He slides his ruby-quartz glasses back on before peering at his compatriots.

“Slim!” Hank, a broad, stocky lad a scant few years older than Scott, exclaims, “fortuitous meeting, the other chaps and I were just about to head to the _Danger Room_ and get a light afternoon workout in.”

“Is that a new student?” Warren, the tallest and thinnest of the boys, asks. Before Scott can reply, Bobby, covered head to toe in ice and snow, slides through the hallway behind his fellow students.

“Is the new student a girl?” He asks with some amount of intrigue.

“Maybe,” Scott says.

“How can someone _maybe_ be a girl?” Bobby scratches the top of his snow encased head.

“I believe our comrade means to say we may have a new student,” Hank replies.

“Bobby, you know better than to roam the halls like that. Especially when we have… guests,” Scott reprimands.

The ice and snow around the lad disappear with not even a trace of water below him, as though Bobby Drake has always been the average teen now standing before them. “Gee, Slim, I’m sorry,” he says.

“No harm done, Bobby,” Scott sighs apologetically.

“Our friend’s feathers are likely ruffled due to the,” Hank lowers his voice, “non-mutants with the Professor. Eh, Slim?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods, though he knows that said ruffled feathers are not for that reason alone. “Why don’t we head to the _Danger Room_ , get that workout in.” Scott says, leading the youths from the Professor’s door.

 

 Meanwhile, in the Professor’s Office, the Grey family take their seats across the desk from the confident, if imposing, bald Professor. “I am glad you’ve considered my offer,” Professor Xavier says, his fingers tented.

 “Great campus you’ve got here, Professor,” John Grey says, taking a moment to look around the office. “Ah, you served in Korea?”

 “Indeed,” the Professor nods.

 “Well, if that Mister Summers is an example of the students here, we’ll sign Eugene up right away,” John Grey smiles broadly, seemingly much more impressed with the Professor’s military career than his multiple degrees from Oxford University. Professor Xavier can feel the redheaded youth’s stomach turns in knots again.

“Indeed, Mister Summers is one of my top students, and the leader of the,” the Professor thinks a moment, but with such a high mental capacity, neither John nor Elaine even notice the pause, “student council.”

 “With such a fine example, I know Eugene will be in good hands,” John Grey affirms.

 “Would you like to come learn here, Genie?” Elaine Grey asks, looking at the youth.

“Elaine, you gotta stop calling him that, he’s not a baby anymore,” John Grey admonishes his wife before turning his gaze to his child, “but you should answer your mother, bud. Do you wanna come here for school?”

“C-can we afford it..?” The youth sheepishly asks.

“You are a very talented youth,” the Professor turns his gaze to the prospective student. “And, should you accept, you will be given a full scholarship.”

“Full scholarship?” John Grey gasps and softly punches his child’s arm, “you hear that Genie?”

 ‘ _This is a special school. One where you can be who you are meant to be,’_ the youth hears the Professor’s voice resounding, but his lips haven’t moved.

_‘How..?’_ The Professor can hear the youth’s loud thoughts with no effort. With the contact bridged, he continues their mental conversation.

_‘Fear not, child. I, too, have special… talents. Above and beyond your normal scholastics, you will be given special instruction in how to develop your unique gifts in an affirming atmosphere. What do you say, would you like to help change the world young lady?’_

_‘How..,’_ The girl’s eyes widen, she flushes slightly with a mix of panic and exhilaration, eyes darting from parent to parent, both of whom are none the wiser. _‘How did you..?’_

_‘Although I do not make a habit of reading people’s thoughts and inner feelings unless I must, you have a powerful, if chaotic, brain. You have been projecting your feelings and fears more than you know. I can help you, not only with your telekinetic powers, but to shield your thoughts and projected feelings, and to grow into a formidable woman. Will you join my school?’_

_‘What… about the other students..?’_ Jean projects her thoughts.

_‘They, too, are talented. They each possess unique abilities that, though different from yours.’_

_‘Professor… that’s… that’s not what I mean,’_ Jean involuntarily purses her lips, casting her glance away.

 “What do you say, dear?” Elaine Grey asks. For the parents, there has only been a moment of ponderous silence, as they are unaware of the mental conversation taking place in their very presence.

_‘Child, worry not. These students possess strange powers outside the scope of normal people. Having a young woman, no matter how unique, join the school will require no adjustment from my students.’_

After a moment more of careful pondering, the redheaded youth nods. “Yes, I think I would like it here. I-if you don’t mind? At… at least for a little while? J-just to try it?”

 “Don’t worry about us, Genie,” Elaine Grey says, brushing some of those red strands from her child’s face, “we’ve been able to take care of ourselves since long before you came along,” she chuckles.

“Besides, it’s take this scholarship or start working for me in the garage,” John Grey adds.

“Yes, then I would like to join the school!” The teen smiles.

“Mr. and Mrs. Grey, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get young Jean started immediately.”

“Of course. I’ll get your bags, Gene, you go on with the Professor,” John Grey states, shaking the Professor’s hand again before walking to the car to get his child’s suit case, packed on the chance of staying over the weekend.

“Be a good boy, Genie,” Elaine Grey says, brushing hair from her child’s face again. “And get a haircut, okay. You wouldn’t want the other boys thinking you’re a girl.”

John Grey passes the one suitcase to Jean and gives his child a hearty handshake. Elaine gives a hug that John comments is a little too long, “Making the boy soft.” And with that, they are on their way back home, leaving Jean to the new school with Professor Xavier and the rest of the students. After the door closes, Professor Xavier presses two fingers to his temple, _‘Assemble, my X-Men!_ ’

 

In the secret training room, deep underground beneath the school, the four students, Hank McCoy, Bobby Drake, Warren Worthington III and their leader Scott Summers, prepare for a grueling training session in an obstacle course that no human could hope to survive. But these four youths are more than human! The mysterious X-gene has given them each powers, and in this training room they hone their abilities. At least, that was their plan before each student receives the mental message from their mentor. Most of the students are clad in their specially designed uniforms, yellow and blue outfits designed to conceal the identities of the students from a world that is not yet fully ready to accept their existence!

The cryptic message sends the students each moving at top speed to their mentor. In the lead, by aid of his massive, white feathered wings, is Warren Worthington III, the Angel! With his impressive athletics and build reminiscent of a primate, Hank McCoy, the Beast swings through the mansion! Snow and cold encases the youngest member, Bobby Drake, Ice-Man as he slides through the halls! Their leader Scott Summers, running just behind the team, is the mutant known as Cyclops! Having been setting the levels of the special mutant gym, Scott was not yet fully changed when their mentor beckoned them. His uniform pants, belt and the special visor, created to allow him to modulate his destructive blast, Scott holds the shirt and cowl over a shoulder as the team rush to the Professor.

As they round the corner and find the Professor in the study standing next to a nervous redhead, the students stand down. “My X-Men, allow me to introduce you to our newest student, Jean Grey!”

“A fortuitous occasion for a meeting, chum,” says Hank as he removes his blue mask and offers Jean a handshake.

“Hello Gene,” Warren smiles, offering a handshake afterwards. “Don’t mind Hank, he always talks like he’s from Chaucer,” Warren adds with a slight chuckle as he removes his mask.

“So you’re the new student?” Bobby asks as the snowy exterior fades from his face, a slight look of confusion on the youngest member’s face.

As Scott walks past the other students, Jean can’t help but flush at the sight of the shirtless young man. He smirks for, though his vision is tinted red from the special ruby-quartz that holds his destructive optic beam at bay, he can still read the redhead’s flushed face and demure glancing away. He offers his hand to the enchanting young mutant, “welcome to the X-Men, Jean Grey.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter of the first part of my X-hilarating X-Men series! Again, I know it's a little hammy, but blame the source material!
> 
> Content Note: There is still some misgendering. It'll be over soon!

It is late at night, though through one window on the top floor of Xavier’s School for Gifted Boys there still shines a light. A single student, still awake in the dead of the night, silently situates her things again. Hers is the first room on this side of the second floor of the manner. The wing that will one day soon be renamed the women’s dormitory. For now, though, the explanation from Professor Xavier to his students was simple. Jean has not yet fully mastered telekinesis, and thus has asked to be on the opposite side of the dorms from the other students. The reality is, of course, that the Professor knew the young woman needed her own space to explore not only her powers, but herself.

 

Along in her room, the redheaded girl uses her telekinesis sparingly, though it would make rearranging faster. The past week has been a blur, but she’s fully settled herself into life at the school. At least, she likes to think she has. She is still unsure of her place in the world, unsure of her mutant powers. Her ability to move things with her very own mind. Jean is almost more afraid of her powers than she is of the rejection she may face when the time comes to assert herself to her class mates. To the world. As she finally lies down on her bed and turns off the light, she finds it almost impossible to sleep. So much has changed in so short a time, and tomorrow starts her accelerated curriculum with the school, her personal training time with the Professor. And, as she tries to quiet her chaotic mind, she can’t help but think of the young man named Scott. He’s been so kind this week, so understanding and helpful. But she bites at her lip and forces herself to think of something else. Some things can surely never be.

 

Morning comes before Jean even realizes she’d fallen asleep. An alarm sounds from the speakers in each room, letting the students know it is time to get up and ready for the day. While there is bustling and arguing in the men’s dormitory over who gets the bathroom next, Jean finds herself once again with the luxury to take her time in the otherwise empty washroom.

 

With a pleasant chime of the bell, the students are alerted that lessons are about to begin. And being that all of the students are within the same age range, they all know to congregate in the Day Room, just through the schools large, private library. Jean, with the washroom to herself, is the first student to enter today as she has been all week. The Professor sits at one of the large circular tables and smiles, greeting the young woman.

 

“Please, have a seat, Jean. The others will surely be along shortly,” he says.

 

“Thank you, Professor,” the young woman says, uncomfortably tugging at her shirt, trying to make it just a little longer.

 

“We shall have you fitted for a uniform soon,” the Professor says, adding mental clarification as the other students begin to enter the room, ‘ _a proper uniform befitting a young woman in a prestigious academy_ ,’ his mental message sent with a smile. The young redhead lips _thank you_ as Scott and Warren enter the room, Hank just behind them. Jean quirks a brow, looking at the man that had her bothered the night before. Although he is dressed similarly to the other students, slacks, a yellow button down shirt under a brown vest, he still wears those ruby-quartz glasses that she’d seen him in every day.

 

Coming in last as usual, Bobby Drake pushes past the rest of the students, sliding in next to Jean before any of the other students can sit. Though he does not show his disapproval outwardly, Scott finds himself suddenly, unexpectedly annoyed that Bobby has taken the seat he hadn’t even known he intended to sit in. Reluctantly Scott sits beside Bobby.

 

“Eugene, my man! How’s it hanging? A little to the left?” Bobby says, leaving his hand out for a handshake that is not returned. Jean’s stomach turns slightly, but she smiles. However, before either she or the Professor can say anything, Scott chimes in.

 

“Formalities, Robert. Class has started,” Scott’s tone is harsher than he means it to be, but he cannot help but jump to the defense of the young redhead when he notices the look of displeasure at Bobby’s greeting.

 

“Er, s-sorry, Slim.” Bobby hangs his head a little.

 

“No harm done,” Scott offers a slight smile in apology for snapping.

 

“I really didn’t mean anything by it, honest,” Bobby says, turning to apologize to Jean as well.

 

“I know. It’s alright, Bobby,” Jean smiles, glancing at him from behind her hair.

 

“Well, you saw ours, when do we get to see yours?” Bobby asks the redhead.

 

“What?!” Jean blinks a few times, flushing slightly.

 

“Your unique abilities,” he says as a snowball forms from seemingly nothing in his hand. In reality, it is Bobby Drake’s mutant ability to freeze the moisture in the room that allows him to pull off such a feat. Jean has been gifted the opportunity to watch the X-Men train in the Danger Room this week, to see each of them manifest and master their own mutant powers time and again in a safe setting.

 

“I… I really shouldn’t,” Jean hides behind her hair.

 

“I must admit, I have been intrigued as well,” Hank places the book his nose was buried in on the table.

 

Jean cautiously glances at the Professor before she concentrates on Hank’s book. It starts to lift from the table apparently on its own! But it is Jean Grey’s mutant ability of telekinesis that lifts, and then just as carefully sets, the book down.

 

“Interesting,” Warren says, “some sort of mental movement?”

 

“Telekinesis, I believe,” Hank responds.

 

“That’s it?” Bobby blinks.

 

“I, uh..,” Jean bites at her lip and glances at the Professor. “I c-can do more.”

 

“You needn’t show off your mutant abilities if you don’t want to, Jean,” Professor Xavier reassures in a calm voice.

 

“I should like to see what more you can do some day, Jean,” Scott adds.

 

Jean can’t help but flush a little more, knowing that Scott has some interest in her. Even if it is merely to see her powers. She bites at her lip again, shifting her gaze from the Professor to glance at Scott, if only briefly, before she closes her eyes. The book begins to shake and rise, as does the table. Soon the other books, the chairs, the students, even the Professor. Indeed, everything not nailed down starts to float up around the young woman! The harder she concentrates, the more everything, everyone moves by the will of Jean’s own mind!

 

“Amazing!” Hank exclaims.

 

“I’m used to flight, but not like this,” Warren chuckles.

 

“Wow, Gene! What a swell power!” Bobby shouts.

 

Feeling his glasses almost float from his face, Scott is quick to hold them in place. “Jean! C-careful,” he accidentally blurts out.

 

“I’m sorry!” Jean lets her mental hold go, every object, indeed every person, unceremoniously topples to the ground. “I’m… I’m s-so sorry!” Jean can feel tears welling up at her perceived blunder, and quickly runs out of the room. Hank springs up to help the Professor back into his wheelchair before he and the others pick up.

 

The Professor moves toward the door, but Scott stops him by saying, “Professor, please, let me talk to her.” Before he swiftly exits the room after the redheaded student. The Professor nods, allowing Scott to take care of the situation while he begins the lesson. The students seemingly miss Scott referring to Jean as ‘her’, save for Hank. Being both closer to the Professor and Scott, and also having a more acute attention span. But, as Professor Xavier doesn’t seem fazed, Hank remains silent, deciding it better to merely mind his own business for now.

 

“Allow me to help you with that, Professor,” Hank says as he passes out the Xeroxed sheets that the Professor prepared.

 

Scott swiftly searches through the halls for the bereaved redhead. It isn’t hard to find her, through the library, he walks swiftly into the hall. Hearing soft sobs not too far, he enters the reception area to find the redheaded mutant sniffling, hiding her face behind her hands.

 

“Jean?” Scott says, slowly entering the reception area before standing by the chair she’s sitting on.

 

“Scott..,” she looks up at him, her face stained with fresh tears, “I’m so… so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

 

“You didn’t hurt anyone,” he quickly responds. “I was just worried..,” he stops himself before he says his real reason. His optic beam is such a destructive force, were his glasses to have come off, he worries he would have potentially hurt someone.  Instead, he says, “I was just worried about the Professor is all. But he’s fine, no one is hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“No one’s mad?” She wipes her face before peering up at him.

 

He crouches down next to her, reaching out to catch an errant tear falling from the girl’s beautiful eyes. She unconsciously nuzzles into his hand. “No, no one’s mad. And you shouldn’t worry so much. Really, your power is quite impressive,” he offers an earnest smile.

 

“You… you think so?” She sniffles a little.

 

“Yeah, I do,” his tone is low, intimate. “We all do,” he clears his throat.

 

“I’m sorry Scott. I’m just… I just got scared I guess,” Jean shrugs, forcing a little chuckle.

 

“Why?” Scott pries.

 

“Because..,” Jean sighs, “because people don’t… I’m worried you.., they won’t accept me. You and the others,” Jean can feel the onset of tears again. The first time her powers manifest, they were a destructive force. She tried hard to suppress her powers, to not let her telekinesis cause the destruction it did when it first manifest. And yet, that is the furthest thing from her mind in this very moment.

 

“Jean, your powers make you different. Special. Of course we accept you. We all have mutant powers, you know that. Of course everyone here accepts you,” he reaffirms. “And with Professor X’s expert training, you’ll feel confident with them in no time,” he offers.

 

“Scott, it’s… it’s not that..,” she sighs, unsure how to even proceed. But she knows that no matter how this conversation goes, she will end any friendship they could have had. To say nothing of having something more.

 

“Are you worried about being the first girl to join the X-Men?” Scott blurts out before he can think better of it.

 

“Scott!” Jean’s eyes widen and she gasps. “How?”

 

“S-sorry,” he runs his hand through his hair, “I just… it makes sense. The separate dormitory wing, the way you spell your name on your papers. The way you act,” he wants to add more, to tell her how he feels, to complement her beauty. But he stops himself.

 

“You… knew?” She blinks again, in disbelief. But thinking on the week, thinking on their interactions, she’s not once felt that twinge in her stomach. He’s been so protective of her, so caring. Is it because he knew? Knew this whole time?

 

“I’m sorry. I… I wasn’t sure if I should say something… correct Bobby and the others. But..,” he runs his hand through his hair again, “I talked about my theory to the Professor and he told me it was best to let you decide when to let everyone know. But Jean,” he pauses a long moment. She gazes at him, her blue eyes seemingly piercing through his ruby-quartz glasses, directly into his. Seeing her so vulnerable, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. To hold her close and protect her from all of the evil in the world. He wants desperately to kiss her soft lips. But he stays himself. He cannot. He cannot risk her safety just for his own yearning. Instead, he stands and offers his hand. Maybe his heart just a little. And he smiles, “when you’re ready, just know that I will be there to support you. And so will the Professor.” Scott can’t help but blush a little as the redhead takes his hand and comes to her feet.

 

Jean stands there, holding Scott’s hand a moment, wanting the moment to last just a little longer. But their private reception room oasis is interrupted as they hear Bobby calling from the library door for them. “I suppose we should go back to class, huh Scott?” Jean asks.

 

“I suppose we should,” Scott smiles.

 

While Scott hadn’t thought anything of it, as the two walk into the library, Jean shyly removes her hand from his before any of their fellow students see.

 

“Welcome back,” the Professor smiles, motioning to the table. “Today’s lesson is on biology.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Final Chapter of Part 1!
> 
> Content Note: Misgendering. I promise that it gets better by the end of this chapter!

Jean stares at the uniform laid out on her bed and bites at her lip. She stifles a sigh, though she is alone. The top is nearly the same as the one she’s been wearing. Fitted ever so slightly different, but nearly the same none the less. Were one not looking closely, one likely wouldn’t even be able to tell. Her eyes move to the skirt. Pleated skirt. Knee high socks next to it. The Professor had brought the packaged uniform to her the night before, told her to try it on and let him know if anything needed to be adjusted. As much as she wanted to, desperately wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to try it on last night. But it’s out of the package now. Staring at her. She can’t shake the strange feeling that even though it’s something she’s wanted, something that feels right, maybe… just maybe she doesn’t deserve it? Maybe her parents are right. Maybe she’s just confused. Maybe she’s not… CRASH!

Jean snaps back only to find she’d unconsciously begun lifting things in her room with her mind. The night stand landed with such force that it can hardly be called a night stand any longer. She hurries to start picking the things up off the ground before taking care of the broken table when she hears a loud knock at the door.

“Jean!” It’s Scott, he sounds almost frantic though he is clearly trying to stay calm. “Jean is everything alright?” That calm façade starts to waiver.

“Y-yes Scott. I’m fine. I just knocked over the… night stand by accident.”

“Do you need..?” He starts to ask.

“No! No, I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute,” she insists.

“Well, if it’s all the same, I’ll walk with you to class?” He offers. He mentally berates himself for wanting to… for hoping that he can get closer to her, knowing he cannot. Knowing that that concussive beam can be unleashed at any moment. A destructive power that is only held at bay by his special rose-quartz glasses or visor. One wrong move, one slight accident and she could be permanently injured. Or so much worse. No, he cannot get close to her. But he… he can still be her friend. And that… maybe that it enough. Scott sighs and leans his back against the wall, waiting for her.

Meanwhile, Jean sets those few things, less the lamp with a broken bulb, on her bed next to the uniform. She takes a deep breath, “it’s now or never,” she says to herself quietly. She sits on the bed and drops the towel. Panties, but nothing up top. No point right now, she feels. She tries not to dwell, but instead to start dressing. She slides on knee high sock up, then the other. She slides the skirt up and cannot suppress the smile. She then puts on the top, and adjusts, tucking the shirt but keeping the vest out. She looks at herself, checks herself over and then walks to the door. Hand on the knob, she freezes up a little as she remembers that Scott is waiting for her on the other side. Squeezing her eyes closed, the redhead opens the door and steps out.

“Jean! You’re~”

“Scott, please!” Jean’s gaze turns to the floor, she feels her cheeks reddening with nervous embarrassment. “I can explain…”

“Beautiful,” he finishes.

Wide eyes dart up at him, half-hidden behind her red hair. Her face flushes redder still, but for completely different reasons. For the briefest of moments she loses her voice altogether, but after clearing her throat she can still only muster a small squeaking “wh-what?”

“Jean, you look so beautiful,” Scott reaches out, wanting to throw caution to the wind. Wanting to hold her. To kiss her. A deluge of thoughts cross Scott’s mind. Dating. Love. Marriage. Happiness. But he snaps back and subtly moves his arm. No longer poised to offer to draw her close, instead stiffly offered, “may I walk you to class?”

Jean slips her arm under Scotts and walks next to him down the hall. Instinctively, she rests her head on his shoulder and the boy in the rose-quartz glasses can’t help but smile. This is something he could get used to. If only he didn’t have this nigh-uncontrollable force brimming behind his glasses. If only he could give her a normal life. But what kind of life could he hope to offer her? His smile fades as his mind takes him to the dark places of self-doubt and just a little self-loathing.

Just as they walk through the library into the class room, Jean sheepishly slides her arm from Scott’s and trails just inches behind him. Her confidence fades as she remembers they are not alone, not on their own private island, but going to class. She has to confront her class mates in her new uniform. Now… today… She starts to shrink away, considering running back upstairs to change into that uncomfortable old uniform. The one that hangs on her like lead, that makes it hard for her to breathe. But Scott turns to her, “ladies first,” he smiles.

Jean walks past him, her eyes clenched closed, but she hears nothing. She opens them and scans the room, but none of her fellow students are there. Only her, Scott and the Professor. “Ah, Jean,” Professor X says, “how are you liking your new uniform?”

“I.., uh..,” she offers a nervous smile, “it fits very nicely. And I… I love the pleated.., uh…the skirt.”

“I am glad everything fits,” Professor X responds, offering her an earnest smile in return.

Clamor comes from the library, the voices of Bobby and Warren arguing about something while Hank plays mediator break the conversation in the class room.  Before Jean can try to sit, to maybe hide her skirt and circumvent the awkward questions, though, they are in the room.

“Slim!” Bobby exclaims, “how’s it going, my man?” He turns his gaze to Jean without waiting for an answer. “Eugene? Are you wearing a skirt?” He quirks a brow. “Did Slim put you up to this? A little initiation?” He starts chuckling, “you know, with your hair down like that, you look like a girl,” he starts to laugh a little more raucously, nudging his elbow into Hank, “doesn’t he, man? Doesn’t he look like a girl?” Hank only responds with a hard, dry stare. “Warren? Warren did you put him up to this?” Bobby turns to the young man also known as Angel.

“Bobby,” Warren flatly says, glaring and trying to draw the youngest of the X-Men’s attention from Jean to himself.

Jean can feel tears welling up in her eyes. It’s been a while since she broke down in the class room, but here she is. Unable to hold back, she offers a stifled “excuse me,” before running out of the class room for somewhere to cry. Scott moves to go after her, but the other X-Men stand in his way, unintentionally blocking him.

“Gee, Slim. Is Gene okay?” Bobby asks, confused at the seemingly sudden turn of events.

“No, Bobby. Jean is not okay,” Scott rubs his forehead. He wants to be so much more visibly angry at Bobby, he wants to say something, do something to have protected Jean from… he’s not sure what. But seeing her cry fortifies and strengthens his already protective nature. He steps forward again, about to ask them to move, but the Professor stays him.

“Scott, stay a moment. I think you’re needed here as well.” Professor X says with a steady, calm voice, but in that moment he feels a power in Jean that he cannot even explain. A dark fire. Something that must be contained. Staying Scott is for his own safety, the Professor thinks.

“What did I do..?” Bobby blinks a few times. “Slim?” He pleads at Scott, “I really upset him, didn’t I? I…I didn’t mean to upset him. Hank?”

“Bobby, it’s..,” Scott thinks a moment, but then looks over at the Professor. “Sir, maybe Jean should be present for… this conversation?”

“I must admit, I have felt that something about our newest member was… off. Jean has seemed distant, but I wagered it was the telekinesis that,” Hank mulls over his words a moment, “Jean has not yet full mastered that precipitated that social barrier.”

“I have a feeling it’s not that simple,” Warren conjectures.

“Scott,” Professor X nods, “I think it best you at least ask Jean to be present.”

“Maybe I should get him?” Bobby offers, “say sorry for hurting his feelings?”

“No, Bobby, let Scott get Jean,” the Professor insists. _I feel she will respond best to him in her current state_ , Professor X thinks to himself.

Meanwhile, Jean rushes through the class room, through the library. _I knew this was a bad idea_ , she thinks, _I knew this would happen. They all… they were all laughing at YOU!_ The voice in her head, that voice of self-doubt and self-loathing suddenly sounds more sinister, like it is someone else’s. She feels a momentary flash of hot anger, and a few books fly from the shelves. But the tears fall and snap her back from whatever darkness she didn’t quite realize she was teetering on. Instead, only the wash of sadness. _They all laughed… he’ll never love me… he can’t possibly_ , she thinks to herself as she crumples to the ground. Her face buried in her hands, she doesn’t even try to stop herself.

“Jean?” She doesn’t hear Scott as he approaches. She can’t over her own sobbing. He reaches a hand down to caress her face, to guide her to look up at him. His hand is rough from the extended hours he’s been putting in in the gym and Danger Room lately. Although tears continue to fall, she looks up at him. Her eyes look like precious glass, her tears hardly even mar her face, though that small bit of mascara she’s been wearing is running ever so slightly. To Scott, it only makes her look more vulnerable.

“Scott..?”

“Jean, please come back~”

“Scott,” she looks away from him, “I can’t. I can’t stay here,” she sniffles while he helps her to her feet. Her gaze is still cast away from him though. “I can’t do this, Scott. My parents were… my parents were right. I’m not..,” tears start to fall again, though she tries to hold them back, “I’m not a gir~”

In that moment, before she can finish that sentence. That word. Scott abandons that inner voice that tells him to fear himself, to fear what he has, what he _might_ do. For a brief, necessary moment, all of his fears about his mutant power dissipate. All of those thoughts of self-doubt fade, and all he can think of is her needs. Of protecting her. Of keeping her close. “Jean..,” he whispers, his rough hand drawing her face toward his. He leans in, his lips so close they are nearly touching hers, “you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Please stay.”

“Scott..,” Jean’s lips brush his ever so lightly. “You don’t mean that,” she whispers.

“I do, Jean,” Scott sooths. Jean’s gaze locks with those rose-quartz glasses, and she finds herself so close she can see his eyes staring sincerely back. “I… would like to kiss you.”

“Please,” she quietly moans. Without another word, Scott leans in. Their lips lock and Jean feels her knees weaken, but Scott wraps an arm around her, stabilizing her and pulling her that much closer. She fumbles a little, her lips stiffer than she wants them to be, and she can feel herself flushing again, but she slowly wraps her arms around him, delicately holding onto his broad frame. Her lips part slightly and she moans into his kiss, only causing him to hold her tighter, closer.

Their kiss breaks and he rests his forehead on hers. She can’t help but smile ear to ear, her hands still holding onto him tightly. She turns her head and rests against his chest, letting out a long, contented sigh. “I..,” she pauses, looking back up at him, “I never thought you’d~”

“Have the nerve to make a move?” Scott whispers softly, smirking just a little. “Come on, we should get back to class,” he smiles at her, taking her hand in his.

“Scott..?” She peers at him cautiously. “I… I shouldn’t go b-back. Not like..,” before she can finish, he kisses her on the forehead and squeezes her hand.

“I’ll be with you. And the Professor is there. We are both with you.” She nods at him, offering a nervous smile as he continues, “I can handle them. Besides, I think Hank knows already anyway and he speaks nothing but highly of you. I know it’s scary, but I am with you.” She nods a few more times, biting at her lip. “And if you want, I can explain.”

“Thank you,” she sniffles. He wipes an errant tear from her cheek before they walk back to class. Reflexively, she goes to remove her hand from his before they enter, but he gives her a firm, though gentle squeeze, wordlessly telling her it’s okay. The other students look up as Scott and Jean walk in. Warren quirks a brow, glancing at those interlaced fingers, but he says nothing.

“Hey,” Bobby sheepishly offers, “I’m sorry. Really I am. I didn’t mean nothing by it, honest. I really didn’t mean to upset you. And i-if you want to wear a skirt, then that’s boss with me, my man.”

Jean bites at her lip and shyly glances at Scott. The mutant known as Cyclops nods at her and then  looks to Bobby, “Jean isn’t a man.”

“What?” Bobby blinks a few times, “but… but I thought he was?” Bobby’s gaze moves from Scott to Jean, “you were wearing boy clothes when you got here. And your parents called you Eugene?”

“My..,” Jean stifles. Scott gives her hand a reassuring squeeze and she takes a deep breath. Exhaling through her mouth, she continues. “My parents named me Eugene, because… because they thought I was a boy. B-but I’m not. I want… I _am_ a girl.”

“Wait, but how does that work?” Bobby scratches at his head. “I thought you we born one of the other?”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Bobby, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Hank chimes in.

“Huh?” The youngest of the X-Men looks over at the one they call Beast.

“I think what Hank is saying, Bobby,” Warren responds, “is that I have wings, Slim shoots beams from his eyes and you can create ice seemingly out of nothing. Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t the most difficult thing to explain in this room?”

“Huh?” Bobby nods slowly. “So he.., She! Doesn’t want to wear a skirt, she _is_ a skirt?”

Jean lets out a little chuckle, “I suppose so.”

“But you’re still called… Jean?” Bobby asks, blushing with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” she nods.

“I’m really sorry, Jean. I really am. I didn’t know,” Bobby hangs his head a little.

“It’s okay. I… I was going to tell you all today.”

“Professor,” Bobby turns, “did you know about… her?”

“Indeed, Bobby.” Professor X nods. “You see, when I created the X-Men, it was with the hope that one day mutants and humans alike could live their most authentic self safely and free from the bigotries of today. For until all of us, mutant and human alike, no matter our race or creed, or how we feel most comfortable with ourselves, are free none of us will truly ever be. So while I created the X-Men to advance the understanding and acceptance of mutantkind, my true mission is to make sure we are all accepted for who we are.”

“Wow. I guess I never really thought of all that. Okay, Jean. Well, if you’re a skirt, I can dig it. I just hope we can be friends after all this,” Bobby offers her an earnest, if still embarrassed, smile.

“Of course we’re friends, Bobby,” she smiles, offering him a hug.

“Far out,” he smiles, hugging. “So… that’s why you got your own wing, huh?”

“Indeed, Bobby. Jean is the first girl to join our school,” Professor X responds.

As they talk, Warren walks over and in a hushed tone says to Scott, “so… you to an item then?”

“I… I think so. Hope so,” Scott can’t help but smile.

“Good on you, man,” he says, masking his disappointment. “She’s quite a girl.”

“A marvelous girl,” Scott beams.

“What’re you chaps discussing in hushed tones?” Hank asks.

“Oh,” Scott glances at Warren, “Angel was asking me if we’d discussed Jean’s code name, now that he understands why she had yet to choose.”

“Scott suggested Marvel Girl,” Warren adds.

“A most appropriate moniker,” Hank nods in approval.

“Hmm, what do you think, Jean?” Professor X looks at the first female member of the X-Men.

“I think I like it,” Jean says with a smile, letting the name sit on her tongue a moment. “Marvel Girl.”


End file.
